


Truth

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M, Slow Burn, these two will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Red and Blue are subjects of a secret experiment run by Professor Oak where they test the bonds with their Pokémon through a simulation. Red thinks that the simulation is his real life, while Blue knows that it's only an experiment. Once Blue finds out that Red really exists, he is determined to find his long-time rival and confront him for taking the title of Kanto Champion from under him. He definitely didn't plan on liking him.





	

Blue stared in shock as Jolteon staggered, its body wracked with paralysis, and turned its eyes on him in a desperate apology as it finally fell to the floor of the battlefield. “No!” he shouted, running forward in an attempt to do  _ something  _ to change the undeniable outcome of the battle, but Jolteon was finished. “Damn it!”

Across the room, Red gave a small smile to his Pikachu, who ran towards him and leaped into his arms. The boy smiled and held it close, scratching it behind its ears and softly murmuring something to it before returning it to his Pokéball. Then he adjusted his cap and lifted his gaze to meet Blue’s. 

Blue waited for his victory speech, for him to gloat and say something like, “Haha, I beat you, you asshole! You were always one step ahead of me and now look who’s on top,” or something along those lines. That’s what Blue would have done. 

But Red said nothing. He just stood there, and Blue found himself rolling his eyes. What else should he have expected, really?

“You did it,” Blue finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. “You beat me at my best. You’re the new Pokémon League Champion.” 

Saying the words left a sour taste in Blue’s mouth, but his loss of pride was nearly forgotten as Red opened his mouth as if to respond. However, before he could impart any heart-touching words, he was interrupted by a loud clang as the door to the Champion’s chamber swung open.

Blue turned to see his own grandfather, Professor Oak, enter the room, walking towards Red with a look of pride in his eyes. “So, you’ve won,” he observed, a smile crossing his face. “Sincerely, congratulations.”

Blue felt himself go rigid with anger as the professor continued, seemingly oblivious to Blue’s building rage. This old man thought he could just burst into the Champion’s chambers and steal the spotlight! He had come to congratulate Red on winning, but never even gave Blue a thought! 

“You’ve come so far since you first left with Pikachu to work on the Pokédex. Red, you have come of age!” Oak said warmly. Red looked from the professor to Blue as if he was also surprised by the professor’s actions, but he said nothing. Typical. Then Oak finally turned to Blue. 

“Blue, I’m disappointed in you,” he said, not even bothering to attempt to keep Blue’s pride somewhat intact. “I came when I heard you’d beaten the Elite Four, but when I got here, you’d already lost.”

Blue closed his eyes and balled his fists, and found that he was holding back tears of both fury and anguish. Why did his grandpa think it was okay to do this to him? 

“Do you understand why you lost?” Oak asked. “You’ve forgotten to treat your Pokémon with love and trust. Without them, you will never become the Champion again.”

Blue didn’t answer, looking at the ground and letting his anger build and build inside of him as his grandfather then loaded more praise onto Red and led him out of the Champion’s chamber and into the Hall of Fame. 

Blue still didn’t understand. Oak seemed to be so much more invested in Red as a Pokémon trainer than Blue. Blue wasn’t good enough for his grandfather, and he likely never would be. He closed his eyes, his hands still shaking, and waited to wake up. 

\--

Blue’s consciousness finally returned after completing his allotted eight hours in the simulation. He immediately ripped the headpiece that connected him to the Pokémon world off in rage. “ _ How did he beat me?” _ he hissed. “I was only the Champion for a matter of minutes before he came in. An AI!”

He swiveled in his chair to face the  _ real  _ Oak, who stood in the doorway of Blue’s room with his arms crossed. “And you  _ congratulated _ him. I don’t care if it was really you or just your simulation. You left me in the dust. You said you were  _ disappointed  _ in me,” he spat. “Why do you favor a… a fucking robot over your own grandson?”

Oak sighed, his lined face looking tired. He had his arms crossed, partially covering the picture ID that was pinned to the front of his lab coat. “My simulation self was right, Blue. Remember what it told you? You need to treat your Pokémon with love and trust. That’s why you lost.”

“It’s a simulation! A game, gramps! My Pokémon can’t feel shit.” Blue pinched his nose, trying to contain his frustration and utterly failing. “Besides, you think that  _ Red _ treats his Pokémon with love and trust? He’s an AI! He can’t feel anything!” 

At this, Oak fell momentarily silent. Then he slowly pulled up a chair from a nearby table, and sat down facing Blue. “Blue, your involvement in the simulation may merely be an experiment, but it is vitally important that you treat your Pokémon  _ as if _ they existed.” Oak paused, and Blue could practically see the gears churning in the old man’s head. “I think… I think it’s time I told you more about what this experiment entails.”

Blue narrowed his eyes. He was still pissed as all hell that he’d lost his title as Champion, but it was rare that the professor told him anything at all regarding his work. He decided to bite his tongue for now and instead settled for glaring at him as hatefully as he could muster. 

Oak ignored him easily, well-adjusted to Blue’s argumentative nature. “As you know, when you were ten years old, I convinced your parents to allow you to take part in this simulation. Your memories were essentially wiped clean to provide us with a fresh slate. You were then raised inside of this facility, partaking in the simulation on a daily basis for an allotted time period. As you already know, it’s taken you nearly eight years to reach your goal of becoming the League Champion.”

Blue was mostly unimpressed with what Oak had to say. He knew most of this information already, and he could infer things like his memory loss from the blankness that entered his mind whenever he tried to remember a point in his early childhood. However, Oak had never openly discussed his biological parents with him, and his curiosity made him interrupt. “Where are my parents now?”

Oak waved him off with a hand. “It doesn’t matter.” Blue wanted to tell him that  _ yes, it does matter, they’re my parents,  _ but Oak spoke over him. “What matters is that you were not the only child chosen to take part in this experiment. There was another. At the same time that you were chosen and your memories wiped, this child underwent the same procedure. You were both subjected to different external environments while your simulation experiences were essentially the same. Both of you had the same amount of time in the simulation each day. 

The results from this experiment were very telling. While you always seemed to come out ahead, in the end Red had a stronger bond with his Pokémon. We’ve since concluded that Red’s treatment outside of the simulation is ideal when it comes to the bond between trainer and Pokémon.”

This time, all of this information was news to Blue. The… The boy that Blue had always assumed to be an AI was real. He existed. The boy that his grandpa’s AI always seemed to favor was  _ real _ . He and Red had been pitted against each other for a reason more than to motivate Blue to complete his journey faster _. _ Then, finally, a realization dawned on him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat just at the idea. “...I’m the failed experiment.” 

Oak said nothing to this revelation, his face void of expression. Blue was beginning to feel a bit panicked, especially when Oak didn’t deny the accusation. “I-I’m the failed experiment, and Red… Red was the success. You really did favor him more.” Blue closed his eyes and shuddered, trying to ignore the torrent of emotions he felt churning in his stomach. He’d always just  _ assumed _ that Oak actually favored him and wanted him to succeed, and yet… it seemed that Red was taking that from him too. “Where is he.”

Oak narrowed his eyes. “Red? That is something I cannot tell you.” 

Blue scoffed, and he felt a coldness begin to develop deep in his chest. “Of course not. What _can_ you tell me? Can you tell me what’s so different about Red’s treatment? What makes him so full of _love_ _and_ _trust_? And what the hell is this experiment even for? Why have I sacrificed my entire life for some simulation?”

Oak’s face remained blank, and Blue wondered if he’d ever seen the professor’s  _ true _ emotions; his true self. After a moment, he slowly responded. “There is a bigger purpose.”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by an urgent knocking at the door. “Professor Oak, sir, you’re needed immediately in hallway C,” the voice of one of Oak’s many research aides filtered through. This caused Oak to quickly get up, and he seemed to completely forget that he and Blue were in the middle of a conversation as he swept out of the room without a word, the door to Blue’s room closing with a clock behind him. 

Blue continued to sit in his chair, staring after his grandfather with a million unanswered questions still at the tip of his tongue. Most of them seemed to involve a certain childhood rival.  _ Where is Red? What is the difference in his treatment? Does my grandpa visit him, too?  _

Blue mentally kicked himself for his thoughts. He had grown up thinking Red was just a part of the simulation; he had just been another character that his grandpa had designed when he developed the Pokémon world. Yet Blue had still hated his character throughout his playthrough, and now he seemed to have an explanation as to  _ why. _

The simulation felt real in nearly every sense. It would be easy for Blue to believe that it  _ was _ real if not for Oak explaining his project to him, but there was one flaw: the professor sucked at character design. Blue had to be careful not to speak to the same person twice, or else they’d say the exact same thing they said to him the first time. That always left Blue feeling extremely annoyed and vaguely creeped out, because it reminded him that all of the  _ very real _ seeming people around him were really just empty shells.

Then there was Red.

Red never really said much at all to Blue, and that seemed to make all the difference. His lack of dialogue, and therefore lack of obvious fakeness, allowed Blue to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything wasn’t fake. When Blue battled Red, he felt a passion for his Pokémon burning in him that he didn’t feel when he battled other characters. When his Pokémon fainted one of Red’s, he felt pride for them -- when Red’s Pokémon defeated one of his, he felt anguish. Finally, when Red finally usurped his Championship… God, Blue hated him.

And he was going to find the real-life version of that asshole and give him a piece of his mind.

\--

Red stepped outside of the Pokémon League entrance, squinting his eyes to adjust to the sunlight outside after having been inside for several hours facing off with the Elite Four. He was exhausted, but refused to stay at the League to rest like the Professor had suggested once they finished the ceremony inducting him in as Champion. He needed to go home and see his mother. 

With the click of a button and a flash of light, Red released Charizard from its Pokéball. The dragon shook out its wings and let out a loud roar of appreciation at its freedom, and Red found himself grinning from ear to ear with pride for its performance during the faceoff with the Elite Four and with Blue. It also seemed pretty proud, breathing out a little ball of flame to convey its excitement, and Red laughed. He then made a few small signs with his hands, pointing south, and Charizard dipped its head in acknowledgement and stopped down low to allow Red to climb aboard. Once Red safely had his arms hooked around its neck, it took off. 

As the pair ascended, Red absentmindedly stroked Charizard’s scales and let his mind wander. It had been a big surprise to find Blue in the Champion’s room after clearing the Elite Four, and an even bigger one when Professor Oak had swooped in and taken over for Blue in passing the Championship on to Red. The professor was Blue’s grandfather, and yet he never seemed to take any special interest in the other trainer. But he did in Red. 

Red felt a small twinge of guilt begin to take hold of him at that thought. Blue really was a skilled trainer -- that much was evident from the fact that he had managed to become the Champion. He just needed to realize that Pokémon were more than just tools; they were living beings that needed to be treated as such. Red hoped that if Blue decided to try and take the Championship back, the other trainer would make some progress in that department first.

The steady beating of Charizard’s wings as they flew towards Pallet was making Red feel even more tired. They still had a few hours worth of flying before they reached his house (and he trusted Charizard not to let him fall to his death), so he decided to let himself take a small rest. Once he was home he’d let his team take a day off, he decided, and his consciousness slipped away into sleep.

\--

Red groggily rubbed his eyes as he found himself lying in bed in a small, dimly lit room. He sighed in annoyance, but was unsurprised at where he found himself. The room and its contents were a recurring dream of his -- whenever he went to sleep, his mind seemed determined to dream up the little place. The only  _ distressing _ thing about the dream was the fact that his Pokémon team didn’t follow him here. He instinctively looked to his belt to see if maybe they had this time, with no luck. 

Red slowly stood up, looking around the all-too-familiar dream-space. The room was sparsely decorated, vastly different from his real room. Red’s room at home had posters on the wall, a desk with a computer, even a TV with a gaming system; all of which were gathering dust when Red was out on his adventures. Meanwhile, the dream-room had white walls and a plain tile floor. It contained only a bed and a small table with a chair. There were no windows, but there was a single plain door leading out of the room. Red had tried to open it in one of his previous dreams, but it was locked shut. 

It was boring inside of the dream-room, and Red suddenly wanted nothing more than to be awake and with his Pokémon. Why had he let himself succumb to sleep? He knew this would happen, and yet he still let his exhaustion get the best of him.

He paced across the room a few times, trying to get his feeling of restlessness to go away, then sat down in the little dream-chair and put his head in his hands, waiting to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually posted this a few days ago, then ended up deleting it because I found so many problems with it. Now I've revised it to the extreme and hopefully things are better.


End file.
